Literal Terms
by FBI Bones
Summary: When John decides he and his boys need a bit of a break he takes them to the Roadhouse. Is love in the air for John and Ellen? Dean, Sam and Jo certainly seem to think so and they’re determined to put a stop to it! Wee!chesters.
1. Movement

_Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine, it belongs to Kripke; sonovabitch is just lucky like that. _

_Summary: When John decides he and his boys need a bit of a break he takes them to the Roadhouse. Is love in the air for John and Ellen? Dean, Sam and Jo certainly seem to think so; and they're determined to put a stop to it! Wee!chesters._

_Genre: Humor_

_Author's Notes: I've never written humour before, I'm better with the angst and drama etc but this idea – how random is it? – came into my head and well, I tend to write whatever I come up with, no matter how weird as is probably noticeable from the fact I have so many fictions started and yet very few actually completed!_

_Thank you 'Balloons go POP' for letting me use you as a soundboard before I started this :P Those ideas were very helpful:)_

Chapter 1: Movement

John looked at the newspaper in front of him, there was absolutely nothing there; okay, maybe 'nothing' was the wrong word to use, there were things there, but nothing he would consider to be remotely supernatural; in fact he was sorely tempted to go and check out the case of the ninety-two-year old woman in Tennessee who swore blind she had seen a ghost in her living room two weeks ago no matter what the authorities said.

The fact that said ghost was described to have been 'white and floating with an open mouth and huge black eyes, with the TV under one arm and radio under the other' was what detoured it from being his usual gig – adding to that; the 'sighting' was dated 'October 31'.

He looked up when he heard a bowl thudding onto the table, followed by a box of Lucky Charms.

"Morning Sammy," he said, watching the four year old pour a mountain of cereal into his bowl before splashing a liberal amount of milk in on top, resulting in a flood of white spilling across the wood, Sam didn't seem to notice as he dug in heartily and John wasn't going to try and clean it up until after he'd finished.

"Mornin'," he replied, swallowing.

"Where's your brother?"

"There," he answered, looking over John's shoulder to the now open bedroom door.

John looked back "hey dude," he greeted as Dean headed for the fridge "you boys both packed up?"

Dean's "yes sir," was accompanied by an small nod from his brother.

"Can you get me a glass of juice please?" Sam interrupted their conversation without a second thought.

Dean didn't answer and simply continued talking to his father "where're we going?" he asked, handing his brother a glass of orange juice and taking a seat with his own.

"Fank you Dean," Sam beamed at him over the rim of the glass as he gulped down half it's contents.

John folded the newspaper carefully, choosing to remain silent as he deliberated over his idea before voicing it to his sons.

"Dad?" Dean prompted.

"How do you boys feel about taking a bit of a break?"

Dean's frowned and Sam cocked his head to one side; the expression of confusion on their faces identical.

"I was thinking about going to see a couple of old friends of mine," John continued.

"I want to stay here," Sam said instantly.

John sighed, over the past few months Sammy had begun to get more and more agitated by the moving around. He'd argue when he was told to pack up his things and it usually ended up with Dean doing it purely because the only way to stop the incessant question asking and foot-stamping when he was told that he didn't have a _choice _about moving was to sit him in front of the television to watch cartoons and John was far to busy packing everything else up.

"We can't Sammy," Dean glanced briefly at his father before proceeding.

"Why not?" Sam demanded, the defiance in his eyes was probably intended to look menacing, but how many four year olds can pull of an effective death-glare?

"Because-"

"Normal people stay in one place for _ages_," he emphasised the last word "I don't want to move yet,"

"Fine," Dean agreed with him immediately.

"Really?" Sam's eyes lit up at the prospect of having finally won a battle with his older brother.

"Yep," Dean took a handful of Lucky Charms from the box and putting them straight in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before he continued "you can stay here, dad and me will go on our own,"

John had to resist the urge to smirk at the knowing twinkle in Dean's eyes as Sam's face fell. They may both know that neither one of them would let Sam out of their sight for any longer than absolutely necessary but the youngest Winchester was obviously yet to grasp that fact and although he should probably stop Dean's teasing, however effective it might turn out to be, and just tell Sammy what was happening rather than argue with him over it, but oddly enough, he couldn't bring himself to do so. It wasn't like he _enjoyed _ordering his children around but most of the time he really didn't have a choice.

Suddenly Sam grinned "nuh-uh!" he exclaimed excitedly "daddy wouldn't leave me!" he stuck his tongue out triumphantly at Dean.

"Oh I don't know Sammy," and he didn't miss the look on Dean's face as he joined in the game "I could leave both of you behind if you're not completely packed up and ready to go within the next thirty minutes."

Sam's jaw dropped and he stared at his father for a few seconds, as if trying to decide whether or not he was telling the truth before coming to the conclusion that, that was impossible and jumping down from his chair and scurrying back into the bedroom. Less five minutes later he returned, dragging a once reasonably neatly packed bag behind him, anything that hadn't been packed the night before had been shoved roughly into it and it was now sat half open in the middle of the kitchen floor "ready!" he declared breathlessly.

* * *

Jo threw herself down behind the bar, her breathing sounded heavy in her own ears in the silence of the room. She paused for a few moments before peering out into the shadows; catching a glimpse of the target of her hunt she held her breath and sat very still.

Creeping out carefully she pulled the plastic pistol from the waistband of her skirt and held it in two hands in front of her "gotcha!" she exclaimed, pulling the trigger which exploded with a loud click.

The door thudded against the wall as it swung open and Jo's eyes widened at the tall figure that was silhouetted in the doorway, she fired her weapon again and when the man failed to fall she resorted to her back up plan of screaming at the top of her lungs; "Mommy!"

_Author's Notes: Review if you liked, don't if you didn't:) _


	2. Flounder

Chapter 2: Flounder

"Joanna-Beth, what's with all the yellin'?!" Ellen called out as she walked into the room, slinging a cloth over her shoulder as she did so, eyes widening slightly as she saw who else was there.

Jo seemed to have either forgotten about calling for her mother or was simply ignoring her as she ran up to Bill and launched herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder for a second before looking up again.

"D'ya miss me?" Bill shifted his daughter's weight to the other arm as he used the other to shut the door softly behind him; making far less noise than it had when he had entered seconds before.

Jo nodded enthusiastically, her blonde pigtails bouncing in synch with her head, her noise wrinkled as she remembered why she had called her mom in the first place "you didn't play," she accused with all the menace she could muster.

Bill set her down on the bar as Ellen moved behind it, taking the cloth from her shoulder and wiping down the top needlessly as she waited patiently for her turn to welcome the hunter home "didn't play what?" he asked.

"I was hunting," Jo replied calmly.

Bill smiled "I'm sorry," he answered sincerely although Jo didn't seem to be listening any more.

"Ever since you got her than toy she hasn't stopped hunting things, I swear we're never gonna know if she ever actually sees one of these so called 'spirits' she's chasing after or if it's just part of some game," Ellen said, smiling a little even as she said it.

Bill stroked his daughter's head lovingly who didn't look up from 'cleaning' her gun carefully with the hem of her t-shirt "Ellen I need to talk to you,"

Ellen paused, "Bill…" she began warningly as he put Jo back on the floor and gestured for her to go away which she did without argument.

"I got a call from a source on the way back here-"

"You ain't going again," the stubborn woman snapped "you've only just got back,"

"I know," he reached to stroke her cheek and she knocked him away "this job can't wait-"

"The hell it can't!" she exclaimed and threw the cloth down harshly.

"Three people are already dead Ellen. I'll be back in a few days-" 

Ellen shook her head and turned away from him, standing perfectly still when he put a hand on her shoulder.

"I won't be gone long; a simple salt 'n' burn, that's it."

She ignored him.

"Ellen…" he breathed.

She whirled around "don't you 'Ellen' me," she snapped dangerously "it's not like I got a choice is it? Even if I say no your just gonna leave-" the phone ringing cut off her tirade and both stayed silent for several rings before Ellen sighed and answered it "Harvelle's… John?" she seemed to calm when she realised who was on the other end of the line "sure… both boys coming with you? Of course they are… well I got a coupla rooms out back you can use. When do you think you'll be here?… that's good… yeah, that's fine… uh huh… seeya then… bye…"

"Winchester?" Bill inquired.

Ellen ran a hand through her hair and sighed, "you know what? _You_ can explain it to Jo this time 'coz I sure as hell ain't." and she went out back again, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

The windscreen wipers swished for the tenth time in as many minutes, and the water that obscured his view of the road ahead was quickly replaced; sighing he impatiently turned the radio off, noting that even though he could barely hear the music when it was on it was silent in the car without it and he briefly considered putting it back on again but a glance in his rear view mirror had him deciding against it. 

He'd driven in all sorts of weather and the Impala had never failed him once; the treasured car was loved by every one of them and he had long since found that both boys slept better in the car than in any of the hotel rooms he rented, which was probably why they were both completely out of it now.

Despite plans to have set off almost immediately after breakfast, one thing lead to another, as they inevitably did, and it had been lunchtime before he'd managed to have everything in the car and ready to go. By which time he didn't want to set out on the road on an empty stomach and so walked to the diner over the road, and a 'quick sandwich' had turned into a full cooked meal including desert, which meant it had been nearing two o'clock by the time they'd actually set off for the Roadhouse.

If he was completely honest he could barely wait to get out of the car. Any other day he would have gladly stayed in it all day and night but the rain was making it hard to see; it was practically dark due to great swirling clouds overhead and the traffic had been horrendous on the highway and so he'd been relegated to the back roads to get away from the honking of horns, and cursing and swearing of nearby drivers.

He'd been willing to sit it out until the driver of the Lexus behind him started gesturing obscenely and Sam had started mimicking them with alarming accuracy through the back window and Dean, who seemed to know at least what _some _of them had meant had just laughed and joined in with some embellishments of his own. John didn't want to think about where he had learnt them.

Shortly after having reached the nigh on empty back roads Sam had fallen asleep, closely followed by his brother and John had been grateful for it. But now the rain was flooding the road and even as he knew the Impala would make it through the half-foot deep puddles he kept pushing it through he wasn't sure how long it would be before it started to protest considering how wet the engine must already be.

He should get out on the main road again, but there was little point as the traffic would slow them even further than the bad weather was and he didn't really want to think about how badly log-jammed the highway must be by now besides the Roadhouse was only another thirty miles.

* * *

Ellen leant in the doorway, smiling to herself as Jo clapped delightedly as the little cartoon ghost on the TV screen had the sheet over his head removed by another cartoon man and it was explained to anyone who hadn't figured it out yet that Mr MacGregor was trying to scare away the tourists from the island so he could keep the legendary treasure of Captain Blackbeard to himself. 

Bill had left a couple of hours ago and despite how angry she was with him for leaving again she felt a stab of guilt worming its way into her chest as she realised she hadn't even bothered to say goodbye. Jo had been upset that her father wasn't staying and Ellen had watched stoically as Bill promised that if she behaved herself whilst he was gone then he would 'hunt' with her when he got back, and Ellen found herself envying her daughter at how readily she believed him.

Bill wouldn't play with her when he got back because there would be another job waiting, there was always another job; he hadn't spent more than twenty-four hours with them in nearly three months, and no amount of promises would change that.

* * *

John pulled up outside the Roadhouse and cut the ignition with a heavy sigh. The purr of the engine faded to nothing and as if on cue Dean stirred in the back seat. 

"Hey champ," John turned his head "sleep okay?"

Dean nodded and blinked, glancing out of the window and then when failed to be able to see passed the steady onslaught against the glass he watched John as he got out of the car and the door of the car slammed to easily against the metal framework and he winced as the car shook violently with the force of it.

Sam jerked awake as John shut the trunk after he'd managed to retrieve their bags and proceeded to open the back door, beckoning both boys out, Sam looked at him as if he was insane for all of two seconds before he leapt out of the car, narrowly missing the muddy puddle Dean had deftly managed to jump over when he had exited the vehicle.

* * *

Ellen hurried into the bar when she heard the door swing open with a bang and she flicked the light switch, it didn't work, but there was enough dim light to pick up on who was standing there. Upon seeing John she placed the shotgun she had seized against the wall. 

"John Winchester," she greeted with a warm smile.

"Hey Ellen," John answered, smiling a little in return "Dean," he put a hand on the taller boy's shoulder "and Sam," and then on the younger one's.

"Hello boys," Ellen said gently.

"Hello," Dean replied politely, fixing her with a smile that for some reason surprised her with how genuine it was; Sam waved enthusiastically.

"I've got a two rooms out back," she repeated what she had said on the phone after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence "you can have one John, and the boys can either share the other or if Dean wants a room to himself Sam can bunk with Jo,"

John nodded "thanks Ellen,"

"Mommy," Jo sighed as she came into the room, sock-clad feet padding softly on the wooden floor "the television isn't working,"

"Power's gone," John replied, a little taken aback by the intense gaze the blonde haired little girl fixed him with.

"Who're you?" she challenged, eyes narrowing.

"Jo, this is John Winchester," Ellen answered for him "he's a friend of mine and your daddy's. He and his sons are going to be staying with us for a little while."

Jo looked at them sceptically before nodding conclusively, whatever decision she had made no one was entirely sure but it seemed to mean that she approved so Ellen decided not to ask.

_Author's Notes: There you go… thank you all for the reviews! Keep it up:)_


	3. Observations

_Author's Notes: I apologize for the appalling lack of updates… there really isn't an excuse worth explaining!! Oh yeah, I know in the show that Jo is younger than Sam but for the purpose of this (which is purely entertainment…) she is between the two brothers in age (Sam being four, Dean being eight, so she's about five or six)_

Chapter 3: Observations

Dean looked at the little girl stood in front of him, instinct having him assessing the situation as swiftly as possible without him having to really think about it. She was small, almost as small as Sam, but something about the way she stood told the older boy she knew a thing or two about fighting. Her blonde hair was in ringlets that bounced when she moved her head, tied in two pigtails either side of her head, blue eyes darting beneath the thin fringe that dusted her forehead as her gaze flicked between him and his brother.

"Dean," he said, sticking out his hand stiffly; a mirrored movement of his father's that he had echoed so many times before but still felt obscure.

Jo cocked her head to one side, taking his hand and allowing him to shake it twice before releasing it like it was on fire "I'm Jo," she replied, turning to Sam and giving him an odd look; the conversation going on overhead was toneless and did not interest her in the slightest, "you gotta name?" her cocky drawl was far too country to be genuine.

Sam stared at her, speechless, taking an instant dislike to her for reasons his four-year-old brain could not fathom. He jumped a little when his brother's hand clapped down on his shoulder, squeezing it a little in the only gesture of comfort Dean willingly gave anymore.

"This is my brother, Sammy," he said with an authority too old for his years but Jo simply nodded curtly, holding out her hand to the younger boy in a similar way to what Dean had with her not two minutes ago, she wrinkled her nose when sticky fingers clutched hers clumsily and she released his hand before even shaking it "your fingers are gooey," she told him distastefully.

Sam grinned toothily at her, and Dean had to fight his own smile at the gesture.

"Why are your fingers gooey?" she asked, eyeing her own curiously.

"Gummy bears," he replied cheerily "I ated lots on the way here," he wiggled his fingers at her gleefully.

Jo raised an eyebrow at him and folded her arms across her chest, Sam mimicked the gesture and stuck his tongue out at her when she glared at him; Dean rolled his eyes.

"I'll go see if I can fix the circuit breakers," Ellen said, glancing briefly at the children.

"Want me to take a look?" John offered, itching to be able to do something other than drive, his fingers stiff from being permanently curled around the Impala's leather steering wheel for the several hundred miles he had driven with nothing more than a couple of brief toilet stops and one call in at a drive-thru for a coffee.

"Do you mind?" Ellen said, a little surprised at the offer.

"Not at all," he smiled at her "just point me in the right direction,"

Ellen gestured and John moved off to try and fix the power, the bar-owner looked at the three children she had been left with. It had been a long time since she had seen the Winchesters; the last time she'd seen the boys, Sam had barely been able to walk and Dean had been more silent than his father, communicating through minute nods and simple, monosyllabic sentences, the death of his mother haunting his every move; her heart had broken for the three of them. Looking at them now three years later… John had done a damn good job with the two of them; "you boys have a good journey?"

"Yes ma'am," Dean replied smartly and Ellen found herself flushing a little.

"You can call me Ellen," she smiled as pleasantly as she could, whilst the heat of her fury was dissipating somewhat, the tension that remained was still as present as ever, gnawing away at her insides.

Dean nodded once and Sam smiled shyly at her.

"Jo, why don't you show the boys where they'll be sleepin'? It's getting' sort of late as it is,"

Jo gave her mother a weary look, as if to say 'really mother, must I?', when she received a stern stare in return to she sighed dramatically and walked off, when neither boy moved to follow she turned by the door "you comin' or what?"

Dean was first to move, walking with a casual swagger that Ellen grinned at, the arrogant air to his gait eerily reminiscent of his father's and Sam traipsed along behind, following – quite literally – in his brother's footsteps. The door swung shut behind them and whilst Jo found it perfectly easy to navigate the halls of home in the dark, her companions did not, Sam grabbing a hold of a handful of his brother's shirt and Dean was eventually forced into brushing his fingers across the walls to stop himself from tripping up as they climbed the stairs, relying on the sounds of Jo's footfalls to guide him. The lights flickered back on a moment later.

"Dude, you can let go now," he gave his little brother a half-hearted shove when the younger boy did not instantly relinquish his hold.

Sam huffed indignantly.

"Go in there," Jo held open a door, and pointed at Sam.

"Why?"

"You need to wash your hands," she sighed, as if she thought he should have already figure it out.

Sam looked at Dean for a second, as if seeking his approval.

"Go on Sammy," he said "she's not gonna bite," the teasing note to his voice did not go unmissed, even to the four-year-old who glowered briefly at his brother before scurrying into the bathroom to do as the blonde had told him. "Nice place," Dean muttered casually after a moment, gesturing around, because the scrutiny Jo had placed him under was a little unnerving.

Jo gave him an odd look "you don't look a lot like your daddy," she informed him calmly.

He matched her stare; "neither do you," he retaliated despite the fact he knew nothing about her father, except for the fact he was hunter.

"You've never met my daddy," she told him haughtily, then when his glare did not relent "I was just sayin' s'all," she glanced at her feet and Dean immediately felt a little bad;

"Dad always says Sammy looks more like him and I look more like my mom," his voice was a little tight, almost pinched; they didn't talk about mom much, and at eight, he wasn't sure whether that was easier or not, he figured so, because dad always got really quiet whenever Sammy mentioned her and when dad got quiet, things got awkward.

Jo looked up and cocked her head to one side "I think so too," she replied and Dean was about to point out the fact that she probably had as little idea about what his mother looked like as he did about her father but the bathroom door creaked open and Sam emerged again, giving them both opportunity to steer away from the dangerous topic.

The rest of the walk down the hall was relatively short and Dean ignored all of Sam's poorly-crafted efforts to attract his attention as he stared after the enigmatic little girl who was acting as their tour guide as she skipped ahead, pointing out various rooms with more gusto than he was sure was strictly necessary

"That's my room," she came to an abrupt halt, pointing to a door behind her with a wooden plaque stuck to it, 'Jo's Room' carved intricately into it "and that's the guest room," she pointed to the one next to it "and I think that's the one your daddy's gonna be in; mommy's and daddy's is right down there," her arm stretched as far as it could as she pointed to the other end of the hall.

Dean nodded, taking in all the information she provided him with and running a sceptical eye across the place.

"Problem?" her tone was pitched high and challenging.

Dean blinked, unsure of how to respond, and glancing at Sam as he craned his neck right the way back to look at the ceiling. Jo did not take her eyes off of them and the older brother shifted a little, uncomfortable under her piercing gaze. Girls were cool, he liked girls, they could be a little strange and some of the smelled funny – like flowers and too much perfume; stuff his dad said only grown up women wore – but he didn't mind them too much, they were all right so long as they didn't bug him. But Jo was just plain weird, as if she was following similar rituals to his own when faced with new company; watching them carefully, picking up on personality traits, possible strengths and weaknesses. He shook his head a little; girls were crazy.

"Guys?" John called, the stairs creaking beneath his feet.

"Here!" Dean called out absently, frowning a little at Jo, irritated when she simply frowned back; Sam glancing between the two of them.

"Everything okay?" John asked, smiling politely at Jo who grinned sweetly in return.

"Yup," the blonde girl announced "I showed them where their room is,"

"Did you?" John asked, feeling a little foolish all of sudden, after all, he was not exactly accustomed to talking to five year-old-girls, "that's… nice,"

She nodded primly, and a moment's uncomfortable silence followed.

John cleared his throat "why don't you boys and I go get the stuff out of the car?"

Sam looked a little disgruntled by the fact but Dean nodded; "sure thing dad,"

_Author's Notes: That chapter was anything, if somewhat, pointless, and subsequently short but that might be something to do with the fact I wrote it all in one go, in the middle of the night... I hope you liked it enough to please review!!_


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